


Make Your Own Way Back Home

by define_serenity



Series: Thallen Week [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee, Coffee Shops, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4557039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/define_serenity/pseuds/define_serenity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Thallen Week 2015; coffee shop au] Barry and Eddie meet after an averted mugging. They grow closer in the months following the particle accelerator explosion, an accident that left Iris, Barry's best friend, in a coma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Your Own Way Back Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **Thallen week** , prompt: **coffee shop au**.

“Allen, you are a godsend.”

Officer Vukuvich breathes gratefully, surveying the two cartons of coffee balancing in either of his hands, and the order of pastries dangling in a plastic bag from his index finger. It isn’t long before all but one of the officers in the room flock around him like he’s the second coming, all intent on a cup of coffee that wasn’t made by a cop. The coffee here passed, but by a small margin.

“All part of the job.” He smiles, soon left alone and empty-handed – he’s well liked at the precinct because he comes by often enough, but most of them (all but one) still prefer to see him enter with their coffee orders; Iris West, his best friend, gave up coffee over a year ago, all part of her rigorous training to become one of Central City’s finest.

“Okay, I am ready. I am on time–” He stops at Iris’ desk, tucked in a far corner of the bullpen she has come to appreciate. Iris barely glances up at him, her nose buried in a case file, eyes skipping to her monitor. Which tells him all he needs to know, “–and you have a case.”

“I’m sorry, Barry.” Iris scrolls through a page on her computer, seemingly doesn’t find what she’s looking for, and finally meets his eyes. “There was a shooting today and Captain Singh wants me to–”

“You don’t have to explain.”

He rounds her desk and leans back against it, Iris scooting back in her chair.

“I know it’s your dream to see this thing turned on. You should go.”

“My sad nerdy dream,” he says wistfully, which makes Iris smile. Sometimes he lives for the moments he can make Iris smile, stolen in between all the moments she’s not okay, or she’s hurting, or she’s so focused on her work she forgets to smile – he’s always been able to make her smile one way or another, even when the job consumed her, even when she chased the impossible. Somehow she always found her way back to him.

“So, did you find proof of the impossible in Starling City?” he asks, plucking the Rubix cube he got for her birthday off her desk. “Or did you just make Captain Singh mad for no reason?”

This earns him a playful fist to the shoulder, but Iris falls silent, her eyes off in that thousand-yard stare she disappears into whenever reality hits a little too hard.

“Do you think my life is empty?”

He frowns. “Empty?”

“I don’t mean–” Iris takes a deep breath. “I am beyond grateful for your parents, and you, and this job. But is that all I am? Am I missing out on girlfriends, and parties, and whatever else people get up to?”

“Where is this coming from?” he asks, quickly realizing that another question might be the last thing Iris needs. “Iris, you are my best friend and my sister. You are an amazing daughter, and you’re a good cop. You’re kind, you’re compassionate, and you’re smart enough to know your life is anything but empty.”

“No advice on the girlfriend part?”

“I am not touching that one with a ten foot pole.”

Iris reaches for his leg. “I sorta love you, Barry Allen.”

He covers a hand over hers and smiles. “Love you too.”

When he fails to elicit another smile he figures something must have happened in Starling City to warrant Iris’ worry; whatever chatter he’d managed to pick up around the precinct merely mentioned a robbery at Lance Consolidated, no who or what. He idly wonders if she found proof that the Canaries existed.

“I’ll come by Jitters later, yeah?” Iris says, focused back on her papers.

“Yeah.” He’s aware there’s little else he can say when his best friend gets lost in her own thoughts; he can show her he’s there for her whenever she needs him, tell her that he loves her, make sure he catches her when she falls – they’ve been doing that for each other since they were eleven years old and he’ll continue doing that until his dying day.

He drops by the coffee shop – CC Jitters – to get his jacket, his laptop with his near-finished dissertation, and his car keys before heading out to S.T.A.R labs, where the controversial particle accelerator would be turned on tonight. His boss gave him a few hours off to fulfill a lifelong dream, but after this it was back to work. He didn’t technically need the job, his mom and dad told him to focus on school, learn as much as he possibly could and let them worry about the bills, but that wasn’t in his genes. After watching Iris work menial jobs all through high school and college to assuage her guilt over taking money from his parents, he decided to follow her fine example. Now he had one final year left before he had to make a decision about his future again. Chances were he’d go for a third degree.

Jitters paid him fair for the work he delivered, being able to check in on Iris an added bonus. If he one day decided to actually do something with his degree in Forensic Chemistry, he might even find himself working alongside her at the CCPD.

 

.

 

Things don’t exactly go according to plan. He arrives at S.T.A.R labs safely and even catches part of Harrison Wells’ speech, about a bright future and advances in medicine beyond imagining, and he wonders if his real lifelong dream isn’t working with great minds like him and his team. Not only would he be on the cutting edge of science, he’d get to work with the best and brightest the world had to offer; everyone knew Harrison Wells hired from all over the world.

Lost in his daydreaming he failed to notice a man bump into him, quickly snatching his bag off his shoulder and setting off through the crowd like a man possessed. He’d chased the guy through a slew of bodies, onto the parking lot until his bag hit him square in the face and send him reeling to the floor, his face exploded in pain and a trickle of blood running down his lips.

“Barry, oh my God.” Iris rushes over to him the moment he sets foot in the precinct, following behind the detective who’d somehow been in the right place at the right time, even finding time to add a pun when he arrested his assailant. “What happened? Come here.”

They seclude themselves to Iris’ corner desk, Iris gently wiping at the blood on his face as his eyes catch on the same officer who’d helped him out across the bullpen: he hadn’t taken much time to size the man up, his heart raced and his face throbbed, the pain so bad he’d closed his eyes. Now that Iris has forced some Advil on him his eyes can wander; in his fine tailored suit, a smile that rivaled the sun, and blond hair, the male stands out among all the other officers.

“Who is that guy?” his mouth asks without his permission.

“Detective pretty boy.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Just what everyone calls him.” Iris shrugs a bit too defensive, her tone the same sad he tries so hard to distract her from. “He transferred from Keystone a few weeks ago. Eddie Thawne.”

“You don’t like him?”

Iris sighs, pressing some gauze to his nose she urges him to hold. “He was partnered with Chyre.”

His eyes trace over his best friend’s face but he doesn’t need to ask how this makes her feel. She’s been working so hard for so long, fine-tuned her body, disregarded his parents’ and her dad’s advice against joining the CCPD, all so she could make detective. All so she could investigate her mother’s murder with all the right tools at her fingertips. It’s not every day that the daughter of a disgraced cop becomes a cop herself, but Iris has more than earned it, more than proved she was the right person for the job.  

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for my detective shield?” Iris asks, looking back at Eddie Thawne over her shoulder. She doesn’t say it to be mean, deep down she probably even likes this Eddie Thawne, but Iris knows herself to be just as deserving of the position. “And then this guy swoops in and–”

“Hey.” He stands up, cupping a side of Iris’ face. “You’re a good cop, Iris. Your dad is so proud of you. And so would your mom.”

“Thanks, Bar.” Iris smiles tightly, but he considers it a small victory nonetheless. She’ll get what’s coming to her soon; he has no doubts about that. CCPD might not have a lot of female detectives, but Captain Singh isn’t the kind of person to overlook potential. “You gonna be okay?” Iris asks, replacing some bandages in the small first aid kit she keeps in her desk. “I have to run to the lab.”

“Go.” He nods, carefully touching around the bruise on his nose, though he can no longer distinguish it from the rest of his face. “I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

Iris snatches her phone from her desk and reaches up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

That makes two of them. Unlike Iris he’s been blissfully safe and sound most of his life, growing up in a loving family whose biggest concern had been his dad’s long hours at the office before Iris came to live with them. Still, he aspired a career like Iris’; he wanted to make a difference in the world, help people, whether it was as a forensic scientist or a researcher at a lab. There were so many options for him it often got to be a little too much. How would he ever decide? A question for later, he decides, if he hurries he can still catch his late shift at Jitters.

Grabbing his bag he quickly makes his way over to the detective who helped him. “Detective Thawne.”

The man in question turns around at the sound of his call sign, a breath of fresh air if ever he saw one, and as recognition sets in the detective readjusts his belt around his hips. Which causes more than one interesting sensation to course through him. “Eddie, please.”

“Thanks for coming to my rescue.” He holds out his hand, tapping his shoulder bag with the other. “Don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost this.”

Eddie shakes his hand. “All part of the job, Mr Allen.”

“Barry,” he offers, an inadvertent smile stretching in his lips. Eddie Thawne has a certain aura about him, different than anyone else in the room; he carries himself straight and as tall as he can, his manner exuding confidence. It would be intimidating if it weren’t for his kind eyes.

They’re still holding hands when the power goes down, and a loud frightening crash sounds upstairs.

“The lab,” Eddie breathes.

And his heart skips a half-second beat. “Iris is up there.”

 

.

 

His whole world turns upside down in a matter of a few hours, and he vaguely wonders –in between screaming “She’s family!” at a stubborn nurse who won’t let him see Iris, and Iris being rolled into her hospital room– if Iris went through this same despair the night her mom died. It’s incomparable and the thought makes him sick to his stomach, but from one moment to the next a twist of fate took Iris away. She’s not gone, she’s still breathing, but she’s not completely here anymore either.

And he should be grateful Iris is alive, that even though the lightning strike had been direct Eddie’s response had been immediate, because he’d stood welded to the floor, his chest clamped around a panic he’d never felt before in his life. Eddie performed CPR until the paramedics took over, and sped him to the hospital in a police cruiser behind the ambulance, sirens and all.

Eddie’s efforts might have even saved Iris, the doctors said, but the shock to her system had been so severe she’d lapsed into a coma, one the doctors weren’t sure she’d come out of as herself.

His parents arrived and Eddie slinked away, and they’d all cried together, all worried together, all sat by Iris’ bedside until sleep decided they couldn’t stay forever.

They took shifts watching her now, even after the doctors assured them they’d be contacted should anything change; none of them would take the risk. His mom sat knitting scarves for the shelter she worked at, his dad sacrificed the few hours of free time he had to talk himself and Iris through countless of crossword puzzles, and he, well– sometimes he talked, sometimes he listened to the mechanical beep of Iris’ heart, sometimes he held her hand. Sometimes he cried.

He held her hand and begged her to wake up, soaked the sheets with his tears, but Iris lay unconscious in the bed, her chest rising and falling at a rhythm decided on by a machine, her heartbeat erratic at best.

Three weeks.

And no change.

 

.

 

In all the chaos his supervisor at Jitters offered him all the free time he needed, the time he spent on school and work and Iris near impossible to balance, but he craved the distraction. Sometimes he couldn’t sit by Iris’ bedside, too overwhelmed by the machines keeping her breathing, _keeping her alive_ , too scared to think Iris might never be the same, he might not get his best friend back, _she might die_. So he braves it all; work, and school, and hours at the hospital, because if he doesn’t brave the routine he won’t be strong. And Iris needs him to be strong. He keeps his grief under strict lock and key; no one would guess how much pain he’s in without asking a few targeted questions, and he likes it that way. He’s not sure he’s allowed to grieve.

After his late shifts he likes to unwind with a large Mocha Latté and catch up on emails, relax his feet and back after being up and about all day, taking advantage of the empty shop to clear his mind. Today a late customer pleasantly surprises him.

“Det–” he starts, but quickly catches himself. “Eddie.”

Eddie turns towards the sound of his voice, having just placed his order at the counter; he walks over to the pair of settees he claimed ten minutes ago. “I thought you’d be at the hospital.”

The ‘thank you’ he’d meant to utter sticks at the back of his throat. “I can’t– be there all the time. It’s too hard to see her lying there,” he replies honestly, casting his eyes down at the half-finished email to one of his professors. He’d been typing out another excuse for missing a study session, but the words swam circles on the screen “My parents don’t want me missing any classes either. It’s–”

“Barry,” Eddie hushes, sinking down in the chair opposite him. “It’s okay to be upset.”

A shuddery breath escapes, as if he’d been holding it for three weeks and setting it free might knock him over. It’s nice to hear someone say it. It’s nice to have someone notice. He’s been keeping up appearances for so long he feared he’d blended with that mask, welded firmly to his face without any cracks. But Eddie found one.

“I’ve seen her heart stop three times,” he hears himself say, freed by a few choice words. “Part of me wants to be there in case she–”

He swallows hard. No, he can’t say it. He can barely think it.

“But part of you can’t face that reality.”

He catches Eddie’s eyes, and nods.

“I know what it’s like,” –Eddie offers a sympathetic smile– “seeing someone you love waste away in a hospital bed. You feel powerless.”

He rubs the back of his neck, annoyed by an imaginary pull in his muscles. “Useless, more like.”

All he can do is sit by Iris’ bedside, hold her hand, have a one-way conversation he can’t even be sure she hears. He can’t wake her up, can’t make her better, and he can’t make her smile. All he can do is wait, and he distinctly lacks his best friend’s patience. It’s not a trait that runs in the Allen family; his dad had already shouted at the doctors about Iris’ impossible seizures every time she flat lined, and the only thing that kept his mother calm were her knitting needles, which she was definitely wearing out. His limbs were restless and heavy, craving movement every time he sat down in that chair next to Iris’ bed, as if any moment he could break out into a sprint and never look back.

“But you’re not,” Eddie says, a calming voice through a storm of confusion. “Iris may be in a coma, but she’ll know you were there. As long as you love her, she’ll be able to beat this.”

If at all possible it’s one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said, kind and thoughtful, and exactly the kind of push he needs to keep going. This isn’t about him, this is about Iris. She needs him now more than ever to guide her home.

He smiles softly, his ‘thank you’ now trapped somewhere indescribable, but close to an almost inappropriate thought; with all that’s going on he shouldn’t be thinking about Eddie’s charm and kindness as anything more than gestures, but he can’t help but think he’s a little bit smitten with his knight in shining armor.

 

.

 

It becomes routine to see Eddie after work. He drops by unannounced three or four times a week, and they talk. They never agree to meet, they don’t pinpoint dates or times; Eddie simply shows up and he’s simply there and it seems as natural to them as breathing.

They don’t talk about anything in particular; one day they’ll talk about his schoolwork and what he wants for his future, or they’ll low-key discuss some of the cases Eddie’s working on. Sometimes they can talk about something as trivial as the weather, until the conversation gets deeply personal. Eddie talks about his dad who was never around, too busy with politics to mind his family. Eddie has an older sister Evelyn, with two kids and a dog, and he misses them most of all. It’s unclear why Eddie transferred to Central City, he skillfully avoids talking about it, but he figures if Eddie wanted him to know he’d hear about it eventually. He highly doubts it’s a scandalous secret.

And he has the freedom to talk about Iris; not only about growing up with her, but a fear that’s coiled around his heart like a poisonous vine. What if he loses her? What if his parents lose her? Iris is the daughter they never had, the sister he had the privilege of growing up with, and without her it all seemed so pointless. Iris brought a light to his family none of them ever realized could be missing.

What would they do without her? It’s been over a month and her condition has worsened; her seizures happen with a startling frequency and she’s still not breathing on her own, even though the doctors had been confident that she would by now.

What if Iris dies?

The fear of losing Iris has pulled a haze over his eyes he can no longer see through; it’s all he can think about no matter where he goes, and yet, whenever he talks to Eddie some of the veil lifts, he can breathe a little easier, and find some distance from it all that offers perspective. When he talks to Eddie the memories are fond, the future still encompasses a life with Iris rather than without, and he wants to grab onto that with all his might.

He wants to latch onto Eddie for dear life but that’s a slippery slope that might wreck a relationship Eddie simply perceives as friendly. Wouldn’t it?

 

.

 

At the start of Iris’ seventh week at the hospital Eddie comes with him. He didn’t ask, not with any certain words, but Eddie’s offer had answered a question superimposed over these past weeks getting to know him. Eddie reminds him of Iris in a lot of ways; he’s hardworking and compassionate, he cares about his cases, fuelled by a sense of justice born from somewhere unexplained. Eddie smiles and it lights up the room, reaches some of the darker places Iris’ absence left behind, and he pulls closer and closer every day.

In many other ways Eddie and Iris couldn’t be more different; Eddie has little trouble talking about his feelings, he wears his heart on his sleeve more often than not, and there’s no sadness laced in his past that he visibly carries with him.

He shouldn’t know all this already about a man who’s nothing more than a friend, but the fact that he does solidifies the idea that one day they could be more. They could be something more than friends.

“When we were kids–” –He laughs as the memory gets ahead of him. Eddie sits on the other side of the bed, staring at him– “–she used to climb this tree in our backyard. I never had because I was afraid I’d break my neck. But Iris, she was always fearless. Always the brave one.”

His eyes fall down to Iris’ motionless hand, tears pushing behind his eyes. “Always got me in trouble too.”

The sudden monotony of a flat line cascades critically through the room and his heart jolts as he jumps out of his chair. Not again. This can’t be happening again. How many times can he watch her die before it undoes him completely?

Nurses pour into the room as Iris starts seizing, followed closely by a doctor.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to leave the room,” one of the nurses urges.

His breathing deepens and his vision blurs, a clear image of Iris at eleven years old at the center of the mirage, climbing the tall three in the backyard. Her legs long and lanky, unlike his own, and she’d climbed so fast begging him to follow. He’d stood watching mouth agape, his feet heavier than they’d ever been.

“Barry?” Eddie calls.

Somehow they’ve made it out of the room.

“Barry, breathe,” Eddie urges, but his feet weigh him down again, Iris putting more and more distance between him, lost in a place he can’t follow, never can. He climbed that tree in the backyard eventually, sprained his ankle coming down, but he was never afraid of falling again. Not with Iris looking out for him.

“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep watching her die.” His throat closes around this new fear. What if Iris is never there to catch him again?

“Yes, you can, Barry. You can do this.” Eddie grabs around his shoulders. “Iris needs you to be strong.”

“She’s the strong one.” He shakes his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. Iris didn’t let her mother’s death break her, never failed to visit her dad in prison because she believed with all her heart he never could’ve hurt her mother; Iris saw something that night that haunts her nightmares, but the man in yellow never made her weak. “Surviving what she did, doing what she does, I don’t know how to help her.”

“She’s your sister,” Eddie says.

Always there to catch him.

“Your best friend.”

Always there to support his choices.

“She needs you to be an anchor,” Eddie says, “so she can find her way back.”

His breathing evens out in a matter of seconds, Eddie’s words sinking well below his skin. He can’t lose Iris, he’d never make it out of the darkness that would ensue, but he can be strong for her. She would do the same for him, sit by his bed, retell stories of their youth so he might see their markers lighting a way back home. Back to that tree.

He nods.

“Thank you,” he breathes.

Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “Any time, Allen.”

 

.

 

The days following Iris’ seizure prove to be even more hectic. No one other than Harrison Wells approaches his dad at the hospital and claims he can help make Iris better, claims that S.T.A.R labs can do what the doctors at CC General can’t. His dad sits him and his mom down for a long talk that night, but as someone who’d disagreed with the doctors’ approach from the start his dad made up his mind the moment Dr Wells made the offer. His mom follows his dad’s advice, and he’s believed in Dr Wells’ genius for as long as he can remember. Until the particle accelerator explosion S.T.A.R labs was one of the country’s leading research facilities, but tragedy can befall the greatest of ventures. So, as a family, they decide to take Dr Wells up on his offer.

Iris gets transferred two days later.

“You think she’ll get more help there?” Eddie asks over one of their coffee dates; he never hid his aversion to what S.T.A.R labs did to the city, the cascade of accidents that rolled through Central City following the power outage, people left without power for days, crime in the city spiking. Eddie didn’t blame Dr Wells, but he wasn’t too keen on him either.

He’s glad Eddie feels like he can share those opinions with him.

“I think they can do things conventional medicine can’t.”

They sit down side by side on a sofa lining the wall after he places their orders, one of his colleagues soon bringing by two steaming mugs of coffee and a piece of pecan pie, two forks resting on the small plate.

“What’s this?” Eddie asks, his face lighting up.

“My way of saying ‘thank you’. For the other day.”

He couldn’t have gotten through the past few weeks without Eddie’s help, his continuous words of support, and the imperceptible room he left for Iris; when Iris wakes up she’ll have to accept that Eddie’s part of his life now, but Eddie’s allowed a place for Iris from the start. Eddie understands how important Iris is to him. He’s helped him be stronger than he ever imagined he could be.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I was ready to give up on my best friend.”

“You were in pain.” Eddie’s body makes a half-turn towards his as he moves too, a sort of magnetism playing in between their bodies that’s steadily grown stronger too. “People make poor decisions when they’re in pain, trust me.”

He knows now what led to Eddie’s transfer, he knows the pain of a bad decision too, the disastrous consequences it can have. Eddie saved him from that.

“You’ve been a really great– friend, Eddie.” He swallows around the word ‘friend’ like it’s a piece of gum stuck in his throat. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, his breath a soft puff against his skin tainted with coffee. “And here I am worrying I’m taking advantage–”

He places a hand on Eddie’s arm. “You’re not.”

His eyes search Eddie’s face for any sign that his feelings might be reciprocated, but all he can see are two bright blue eyes regarding him closely, skipping imperceptibly to his lips. He could fall into the expanse Eddie Thawne makes up and never come up for air again.

So he doesn’t.

He leans in the moment Eddie does and they meet somewhere in the middle, their lips pushing together in a short sweet kiss.

 

.

 

A week later Iris has settled into S.T.A.R labs. She’s become Dr Wells’ sole concern, closely aided by one Caitlin Snow and Cisco Ramon, who seem to be the only people who hadn’t abandoned Dr Wells after the accident. In one week Dr Snow gets Iris off the ventilator, an oxygen cannula now helping her breathe on her own, and for the first time in a long time hope blooms in his heart again. He’s going to get his best friend back.

He sits down by his best friend’s side like he’s done so many times before. “Hey, you.”

The heart monitor beeps its usual monotonous rhythm, but it’s steady and stable and he no longer has any doubt about it: Iris will come back to him, the same girl she was before. Before he knows it they’ll be having coffee at Jitters again, he’ll come visit her at work or they’ll have dinner at home with his parents. Sometimes telling himself that is the only thing that gets him through the day.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you can,” he says, unconsciously smoothing down a crease in the sheets. “I really need you to wake up, Iris.”

Caitlin and Cisco are nowhere in sight; they always give him privacy when he comes by, so he’s not too embarrassed when a fresh supply of tears touches his eyes.

Some days he’s not so strong.

“I do dumb things when you’re not around. Like kiss Detective Pretty Boy.” He laughs. “Yeah, you heard me right.”

“He’s taking me out to dinner tonight,” he says. “Our third date. I think I really like him, but I could use a best friend’s opinion on that.”

If Iris were here Eddie’s life would have been picked apart; Iris would have asked him point blank why he moved to Central City, what his intentions were, and he wouldn’t have so many problems picking outfits together. He’d averted quite a few relationship disasters in the past thanks to Iris. Not that he’s worried about Eddie. He’s crazy about Eddie. But who doesn’t dream about introducing their boyfriend to their friends?

“The house is so quiet without you.” He cries. “I know the reason that you came to live with us was– awful, but, Iris, you brought us to life.”

Life hadn’t been gloomy in any particular way before Iris came around; they were best friends long before that fateful day, but the moment Iris got her own room, found her place in a new home, everything changed. From one day to the next there was a little more drama, a different energy, a whole new family dynamic established in a matter of days. His mom’s and Iris’ laughter echoed through the house, her arguments with his parents shook its foundations. But the Allens needed their Iris West.

“Everything that was boring before just– brightened.” He smiles. “Your light, it– We miss it.”

Iris lived on her own now, but she still came by often enough, for dinner or lunch, for the holidays, and to do her laundry. There were days she dropped by just for the company. His home was her home, and he’s fairly certain his home was Iris.

“Anyway.” He wipes a hand down his face, breathing in deeply. “Mom’s still knitting. Dad’s busy with flu season. And I’m going on a date.”

He stands up, hovering over Iris. “We miss you,” he says, and pushes a kiss to her forehead, a harsh shock of static electricity making him jump. Touching a finger to his lips he rubs over the sore spot, but the pain fades quickly.

“Are you leaving already?” Caitlin asks when she runs into him in the hallway.

“Hot date.” He winks, needing no further explanation.

The cold December air comes as a harsh reminder that the holiday season is nearing, and if Iris doesn’t wake up soon it’ll be his first Christmas in nearly fourteen years without her.

“Our girl doing okay?” Eddie asks, leaning back against his car, where he’d been waiting for him to finish his visit.

“Stronger every day.” He nods. “Dr Wells seems confident she’ll wake up.”

“You ask him for a job yet?”

He snorts, slowly closing the distance between them. “I told Iris about you.”

“All good things, I’m sure.”

He slides another step closer. “Told her I make dumb decisions when she’s not around.”

Eddie laughs. “Like date the cop who took her job.”

He leans in, playing with whatever distance still left between them, lips barely an inch apart. “Not the words I used,” he whispers, and claims Eddie’s lips with his own. Eddie’s hands settle around his hips, pulling him closer, while his tongue teases inside his mouth.

It’s hard to imagine not having Iris around for the holidays; she loves trimming the tree while singing Christmas carols, and making her aunt’s infamous eggnog.

At least he’ll have someone to kiss on New Year’s Eve.

 

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


End file.
